


hurricanes, and rains, and black and cloudy skies

by GlitterDwarf



Series: SV Prompt Fills [2]
Category: Silicon Valley (TV)
Genre: AU, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-18
Updated: 2015-06-18
Packaged: 2018-04-04 23:02:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4156260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GlitterDwarf/pseuds/GlitterDwarf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: AU, meeting in the ER. TW: child abuse. Hurt/comfort themes.</p><p>“Okay, let’s just, can we just pretend that we’re friends already? Like, we can just pretend that we already know everything about each other, so you don’t have to be afraid. Is that too weird? It’s probably too weird. I’m sorry, I don’t have a lot of friends myself, but—“</p><p>“Richard,” Donald whispered. When Richard looked up, the other boy was smiling, finally. “Thank you.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	hurricanes, and rains, and black and cloudy skies

Richard shuffled, huffed, and groaned; no matter how hard he tried there was no way that he could get comfortable in this lumpy hospital bed. He kicked uselessly at the blankets and let out a prolonged groan of “fuuu-ck.”

“Do you need me to notify a nurse?”

Richard gasped when the voice came from the other side of the curtain to his left. He had thought that everybody else in this area of the ER was asleep; it was, after all, 3:30 in the morning and everybody in here had been admitted hours ago. This was where they stuck people who needed to stay overnight for further testing.

“Oh! I’m sorry,” Richard whispered in the direction of the curtain. “I thought everyone was asleep.”

“It’s okay,” said the voice. Richard frowned; the voice was small and sounded tired, but also sounded young.

“Um, just a second.” Richard swung his legs over the side of the bed and grabbed a hold of the portable IV stand that he was hooked up to. He shuffled until he could look around the curtain.

The boy in the other bed looked so drawn and tight, so thin. His eyes were circled is dark bruises that looked like they were from a lack of sleep and not from any physical fighting, but he could also see the small, dark scars on his arms that spelled out a history of cigarette burns. His left arm was in a fresh cast, and his right hand was handcuffed to the bed. Richard immediately felt an overwhelming urge to take care of the other boy, even though he was fairly sure that he had to be at least a few years older than his own fifteen years.

“I’m Richard,” he squeaked (damn fucking voice breaking, thanks puberty) at the other boy after way too long a silence. “I would shake your hand but uh, it looks like…”

The other boy smiled at him, but it was a tired smile with fake politeness.

“I’m Donald,” he said, mouth twisting into a frown. Richard scratched at the back of his calf with his other foot.

“Don’t like your name?”

“I don’t like how other people say it.”

Richard nodded as if he understood (he didn’t).

“Do you want company, Donald?”

The other boy frowned. Richard was already tallying up in his mind the frowns, was getting obsessed with the idea of balancing out the numbers with smiles.

“I don’t have anything to give you, Richard.”

It was Richard’s turn to frown. “Yeah, I know? I don’t have anything to give you either. It’s just…we’re here, I can’t sleep, and it looks like you could use some company.”

Donald looked away for a moment, and Richard got ready to strangle himself with the curtain. What was he thinking, what was he doing? Why would a stranger want to talk to him?

But when the other boy looked back there were tears in his eyes. Richard moved forward automatically, instinctually taking Donald’s hand—the one cuffed to the railing—into his own.

“What’s wrong? Don’t cry,” Richard whispered. Donald’s eyes were ridiculously blue, and the tears only accentuated it.

“I’m just not used to strangers caring. Or, for that matter, family. Or friends. Or having friends. It’s a little scary.”

Richard frowned at this and squeezed the other boy’s hand. He closed his eyes, inhaled, and looked up again.

“Okay, let’s just, can we just pretend that we’re friends already? Like, we can just pretend that we already know everything about each other, so you don’t have to be afraid. Is that too weird? It’s probably too weird. I’m sorry, I don’t have a lot of friends myself, but—“

“Richard,” Donald whispered. When Richard looked up, the other boy was smiling, finally. “Thank you.”

Their smiled turned into grins, which turned into blushes. Richard realized suddenly that he was still holding this person’s hand and slowly stroking his thumb in what he hoped was a soothing motion. He should have been embarrassed, but he was also pretty sure that even his Satanist friend Gilfoyle would see this boy and want to wrap him in a blanket of happiness.

“You’re welcome, my friend Donald,” he mumbled while grinning at his own feet.

“Call me Jared.”

Richard laughed and leaned against the railing. “Okay, deal.”

“Richard?”

“Yes, Jared?”

“Would it be weird if I asked you to stay with me tonight? It’s just, well,” Donald—now Jared—frowned again. “I don’t know what’s going to happen in the morning, or where I’m going to live next, and I would like a few hours of something nice. Just in case I don’t get it again.”

Richard nodded. “Yeah, man, of course. But on one condition.”

Jared winced at this, another thing that made Richard want to physically fight whoever made Jared like this (even though Richard would obviously lose).

“I’ll stay with you as long as you give me your phone number, or e-mail address, or, I don’t know, a fucking direction I can send you carrier pigeons, something like that. Friends have to stay in touch, right?”

The answering grin on Jared’s face was almost enough to make Richard cry.

It took a few tries, but he was eventually able to lay next to Jared on his bed if they both turned to the side. They whispered to each other for awhile, Richard talking about his history of kidney problems and confessing his fears about it that he hadn’t shared with anybody. Jared eventually explained about how little luck he had in the system, and when he cried Richard was there to brush the tears off of his cheek. Was it fucking weird? Yeah. Should it have felt as natural as it did? Of course not. But those were thoughts for the day, and right now they had the cover of being sick, of being lonely.

And eventually Richard was able to sleep, lulled by the steady beeping of somebody else’s heart monitor and the shared heartbeats he felt between his chest and the other boy’s back.


End file.
